


if i had my way with you

by lukegodbaby



Series: hatef--k [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Drug Use, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, patrick is eighteen, there's your warning, vic is sixteen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 18:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20782796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lukegodbaby/pseuds/lukegodbaby
Summary: The night they got high, just the two of them, and Vic admitted he’d never blown a guy, ‘cause everyone was too scared of him, ‘cause he still didn’t look gay, ‘cause what if Henry found out and beat the other guy’s ass. And Patrick? So sweetly offered.





	if i had my way with you

**Author's Note:**

> If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?  
If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?  
So many things that I would do if I had my way with you  
\- hatef--k by the bravery

Tonight was a two-joint night. 

Tonight was a night just to themselves. 

Vic was going on about the symbolism in Fahrenheit 451, all that fire, and Patrick was watching the fire in his eyes, thinking, _this is as real as real gets, and I'm still not happy_. 

Would he ever be? 

_Perhaps, _he thought, _this isn't as real as real gets. _

After all, Vic was talking about school, so secretly good at it, and Patrick, with his unrelenting rage for the Derry Independent School District, couldn't bring himself to care. 

_Fire, Mr. Hockstetter. This one's got fire, _his teacher had said. And then, rushed, second guessing: _but don't get any ideas. _

He had ideas. Burning books put a little hop in his step, for sure, he'd done it before. But reading about it?

_Hail Mary full of grace, save me from my English class. _

"Vic," he sighed. "Shut up."

"Huh?"

"I know you're high and all, but so am I, and you're killing my good time."

"Oh, uh. Sorry?"

Patrick gave him a slow, appraising look. Vic looked good in the low light of Patrick’s basement. Sitting there on the other end of the couch, all pretty and sweet. _Sorry_. Yeah.

"Yeah, good enough."

"Gee, thanks. Glad my measly apology was _good enough_ for you, your fuckin' highness."

Patrick pulled his cigarette case out of his shirt pocket, took out a clove cigarette, put the filter between his lips. 

"Christ all Friday, I forgot how bitchy you get when you're high," he mumbled around it, reaching for his lighter. 

"I fuckin' hate when you say that," Vic, predictably, bitched. "Shouldn't it be _all Sunday_?"

"I swear to fuckin' God, Vic," Patrick started. 

"Shut up. Don't swear on something you don't believe in."

Looking him dead in the eyes, Patrick pulled his rosary out from under his shirt. 

"Like that means anything, Patrick."

"Means more than I care to explain."

Vic huffed. 

Patrick finally got the chance to light his clove.

"You know," he said, "the last time I got bitched at like this when I was high, I got laid."

Vic blushed. 

Now that. _That_ was interesting. 

He knew Vic liked guys. Hadn't given up on girls yet, just like him. 

But making a boy blush was one of Patrick's favorite things. So. 

He leaned in closer to Vic. 

Vic opened his mouth. 

"Who fucked you? Your dealer's girlfriend?"

"Mm, yeah. Wish it had been my dealer. Been wanting the heat _he's_ packing since freshman year…"

"Dude, gross. He's like, thirty."

"And?" 

"And you were, what, sixteen?"

Patrick hated reminders of being held back. He pushed it away. 

"Who cares? I still want it. You would, too, if you'd stick around when he drops by."

"Yeah, right."

"Vicky. Baby."

Vic blushed. 

"Don't call me that."

"You'd want it. I know you'd want your mouth all _stretched_ around him…"

"Patrick."

"I can see it now… the drool, his fuckin' huge hands in your hair…"

"Patrick, _stop._"

"What's the matter, Vicky? Too creeped out by him to even think about it?"

"No."

"Then what's the fuss, princess?"

"Fuck you, Patrick. You really wanna know?"

"Yeah."

"I've never blown a guy."

"Oh, baby —"

"Don't call me that."

"— it’s not that I’m not deeply unsurprised, which I am, but Mary mother of _God_, what the fuck.”

“That doesn’t sound like _deeply unsurprised_.”

“You —” this said with a finger leveled at Vic’s nose — “are gonna ruin our fuckin’ reputations by being a fuckin’ cherry.”

“I’m not a fuckin’ _cherry_, Patrick! You’ve literally _seen_ me fuck before.”

“Yeah, a _chick_.”

Vic rolled his eyes and Patrick returned in kind.

“Whatever,” Patrick said, stubbing out his clove butt. “You’re too scared to fuck around with a guy. Not my problem.”

“I’m not scared. It’s them who’s scared.”

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Patrick says, reaching for his water. “Why are they scared, and why would that stop you?”

“One: they’re scared ‘cause they know who I am. Patrick, I don’t fucking look gay. I hit on a guy, he thinks, _oh nice, he’s picked up queer bashing as a hobby_! Then there’s Henry.”

“Henry.”

“Henry threatening any guy who so much as looks at me.”

“Ah.”

“Henry really, really doesn’t want me to be gay, Patrick.”

“Side question: why are you letting _him_ stop you?”

“I dunno…”

“I’m hearing a lot of excuses as to why you can’t, but I want to hear one, good, solid, reason as to why you haven’t just _done_ it.”

Vic blushed deeper and looked at his hands in his lap.

“What if I’m bad at it?” he whispered.

“Jesus,” Patrick said, closing his eyes.

He had been afraid of that, and also incredibly, undoubtedly, excited.

When he opened his eyes, Vic was hiding behind his hands.

“Vicky,” he said, “you’re not going to be bad at it. Not after you practice, at least. Almost everyone sucks the first time.”

Vic’s hands fell, revealing his narrowed eyes.

“You’re excluding yourself, aren’t you?”

“When you’re not scared of anything, it’s hard to be bad at stuff.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Patrick looked away, toyed with his lighter.

“Why’re you always calling me shit like that?”

“Mm, like _sweetheart_ and _baby_?”

“Yeah.”

“Bothers you, doesn’t it?”

“I guess.”

Vic liked kissing. And dry humping. And eating girls out, and pulling hair, and biting.

All this, Patrick knew from their many talks on the subject. All this, Patrick knew because they were just the best of friends, all of them. 

Four boys and so few secrets. 

Patrick was so _very_ blessed. 

So when he looked up from his water to find Vic looking at his mouth, he didn't have to think about it. He leaned in and kissed him, just like he'd done a handful of times before. 

Vic liked kissing Patrick, not that he'd said as much. Not that he needed to say anything, for how he sighed into it, for how he broke the kiss and climbed into Patrick's lap, straddling him, and pulled Patrick into another deeper kiss. 

Patrick pulled at Vic's hair, and Vic moaned. Vic pushed Patrick back to lie down, and Patrick pulled him down with him. Vic ground down on him. Vic sighed, a sweet little sound Patrick wanted to hear again and again until he fucking died. 

"Wanna go down on you," Vic whispered. "Please? Please, can I try?"

"You're not gonna try," Patrick hissed, grabbing Vic by the hair and pulling, as Vic whimpered, until Vic's face was level with Patrick's crotch, "you're just gonna fucking _do it_."

With shaking hands, Vic unbuckled Patrick's belt, undid his pants button, and pulled down the zipper. 

He stopped there, but only to take a deep breath. He looked up at Patrick, right in the eye with a smile Patrick could only describe as _shy, _and he reached into Patrick's boxers, and he pulled out Patrick's cock. 

"That's it, baby," Patrick crooned. "C'mon, suck my cock."

Vic gave the leaking head of Patrick’s cock a hesitant lick. His nose twitched as he tasted Patrick’s precum, and Patrick smiled.

"Always tastes different coming from someone else," he said. "Lick up the shaft, then put it in your mouth."

Vic did what he was told, licking up Patrick's cock, then pulling just the head into his mouth. When he pulled off, his teeth caught on that sensitive skin, and Patrick hissed. 

"No fuckin' teeth," Patrick growled. 

"Fuck, sorry," Vic apologized, looking genuinely mortified. 

"Just assume whoever it is isn't into pain, okay?"

Never mind that he was into it. If he was going to teach the kid anything, it had better apply to most guys.

"Okay."

"How's your gag reflex?"

"Not… horrible?"

"Show me. Go as far down as you can."

Again, Vic did what he was told. Pushed down, farther, farther, until Patrick’s cock hit the softness at the back of his throat, and he choked.

Patrick couldn’t help himself. He growled, putting a hand in Vic’s hair and pushing him down further.

He tried not to play favorites. But Patrick was a growing, hungry boy. He wanted all of his boys, a lot, and just about anyone else who came into his sights.

But Jesus fucking Christ, if he could stare at Vic choking and sputtering around his cock every day for the rest of his life, he would.

Fighting against Patrick’s grip on his hair, Vic pulled off Patrick’s cock, a string of spit stretching from the head of it to his bottom lip.

“Spit on it,” Patrick sighed. “Then use your hands.”

Vic pushed himself up taller, then let a good amount of spit slide out of his mouth onto the head and down the shaft of Patrick’s cock.

“Good boy,” he said, letting it turn into a purr in his chest as Vic wrapped both his small hands around Patrick’s cock, stroking him. “_Fuck_, Vicky.”

“Like it when you call me that.”

“Mm? _Vicky_?”

“Mm hm. And _good boy_.”

“Good,” Patrick breathed. “You’re being — _fuck_ — such a good boy for me, Vicky. So sloppy and pretty.”

Vic blushed, looking away as he continued stroking Patrick’s cock. Holding it up out of the way, he went down to tongue at Patrick’s balls, pull one into his mouth and suck on it. Switched to the other after a minute, Patrick’s hand in his hair the only thing that confirmed this was real.

The sex dreams Patrick’d had about Vic had nothing on this, nothing on this little doe-eyed sixteen-year-old sweetheart just going after pleasing him with all his heart.

God, Patrick wanted his cock in Vic’s virgin ass. He wanted to be the first one who did that to him, who took what he wanted with Vic begging him to do it.

Vic pulled off his balls, gave the head of his cock just the littlest lick, and smiled.

“If I ask you to do something, would you do it?” he asked.

“Yes,” Patrick whispered, trailing his fingertips down the side of Vic’s face.

“I want you… um. I want you to fuck my face. I need to know what that feels like.”

Patrick almost came right then and there. He had actually dreamt about that before, and it was all he could do to not just immediately come and not get to do it.

With the hand in Vic’s hair, he pulled him up for a kiss. Slid his tongue into Vic’s mouth, tasted his own precum on Vic’s tongue, sighed into it.

“Get on your back,” he said when he had broken the kiss.

It took some maneuvering. The couch was shallow, but when Vic was on his back, he was on his back, Patrick hovering above him with a slick grin on his face he couldn’t get rid of if he wanted to.

He walked his way so that he was positioned on either side of Vic’s face, holding his cock in one hand. Vic stuck his tongue out and licked at it, eyes round and eager.

God, but Patrick was going to destroy him.

Playing the head of his cock over Vic's tongue, he thought about it. 

“Nah,” he said.

Vic started to pout.

“I’ll fuck your face,” Patrick said. “Just upside down. I wanna see it in your throat.”

“Okay,” Vic whispered.

And Patrick wished he hadn’t.

So soft, so sweet. This boy was going to kill him.

Patrick turned, got off the couch, got back on, kneeling above Vic’s head. He pulled Vic’s bottom lip down with his thumb, then slid his thumb over Vic’s tongue.

God. Fuck. So soft and wet and so, so sweet. Delicate. That’s Vic, like if Bambi liked dangerous boys and hair bleach.

Bambi.

He stroked his wet cock for a moment, then held Vic’s jaw open and pushed into his mouth, further, into his throat, watching it bulge as he choked and swallowed around him.

“Breathe through your nose,” he growled down at Vic.

Vic nodded just minutely as Patrick propped himself up, hands beside Vic’s waist, pumping into his mouth.

Vic reached up and cradled Patrick’s balls in one hand, holding onto Patrick’s thigh with the other, whimpering as Patrick fucked his throat with abandon, watching the bulge in his throat with extreme interest.

He was doing fine.

Patrick was having a great time, but he didn’t feel like he was going to come until Vic reached up and pulled his pants and underwear down farther and abandoned his balls to pull his ass apart, playing a finger over his asshole.

And then, Vic pushed a finger inside.

Patrick screwed his eyes up tight and, pushing all the way into Vic’s mouth, came harder than he had come in months.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Vicky — _God_ — you’re _such_ a good boy for me.”

Tender, he pulled out of Vic’s throat, out of his mouth. He straightened up to look down at Vic, who had pooled all his cum, or most of it, at least, onto his tongue.

Then he swallowed.

Patrick sighed.

“You’ve been so good for me, sweetheart,” he said. “Is there anything you want?”

It was Vic’s turn to sigh.

“Will you blow me? Please?”

“Yeah, baby. I’ll blow you. Ever had anything up your ass?”

“Yeah… just my fingers.”

“I’m gonna finger you,” Patrick said.

_And you’ll thank me for it,_ he didn’t say.

Patrick pulled his underwear and pants back up, tucking his sensitive cock back inside. He got off the couch and went to the end next to Vic’s feet, pulling at the laces of Vic’s boots and yanking the boots off, pulling his pants and his briefs down last.

Vic propped himself up on his elbows to watch, breathing hard as Patrick wrapped his long fingers around his cock and slowly stroked from the base to the tip.

Patrick reached his other hand up to Vic’s mouth, coming to kneel between Vic’s wide-spread legs, and pushed two fingers into his mouth.

“Get ‘em wet,” he said. “They’re going in your ass.”

Vic moaned around the fingers and closed his eyes, dropping off his elbows, flat onto the couch.

Patrick remembered that feeling. The feeling of knowing someone else was going to pleasure him; knowing someone else wanted to see and hear everything, everything he was feeling.

He tipped his head to the side as Vic sucked on his fingers, getting them sloppy wet with spit. If he wasn’t already high, he’d say he felt fucking drunk on the power of knowing he was going to absolutely wreck Vic.

Bambi. Little Bambi kid.

Fuck.

With his other hand, he sped up. Stroked Vic’s cock harder, faster. Vic whined around his fingers and opened his mouth, arching his back.

“If you come right now,” Patrick growled, “I’ll fucking deck you.”

“I won’t, I won’t, I promise,” Vic moaned. “Please…”

Patrick grinned.

And then he wrestled the grin from his face, though he knew Vic wasn’t looking.

“Okay, baby,” he purred. “Gonna make you feel _so_ good.”

If sweetness was what Vic wanted, which it sure as shit seemed like it, sweetness was what he would get.

He pulled his fingers back from Vic’s mouth, and whispered, “when’s the last time you played with your ass?”

“This-this morning,” Vic gasped as Patrick circled that sensitive spot just below the head of Vic’s cock with his thumb.

Patrick smiled.

“How many fingers?” he asked, positioning both of his at Vic’s asshole.

“Two.”

“So, this —” Patrick started, sliding both of his fingers into Vic’s ass as Vic gasped, hands shooting out for Patrick’s hair — “how’s this?”

“G-good, _yeah_, fuck, _Patrick_,” Vic gasped.

Patrick grinned and pulled his fingers halfway out before shoving them back in. When they were in to the knuckle, he spent just a moment finding Vic’s prostate. When he found it, he just barely brushed over it, and Vic moaned.

Moaned, like it felt so good, he couldn’t hold back.

Another grin not seen by Bambi with his eyes screwed up tight. Patrick licked his lips and bent down to take Vic’s cock in his mouth.

He had once ranked various sex acts, just to himself.

Which did he like better, fucking or being fucked? Blowing someone or being blown? Eating someone out, guy or girl, didn’t matter, or being eaten out?

Blowing Vic fucked up all his answers. The thought of actually fucking him, not just his fingers in his ass, changed things indefinitely.

He pumped his fingers in Vic’s ass, pushed down on his cock and swallowed around him, and Vic gasped and moaned and whimpered, and Patrick felt like he was in a fucking knife fight.

All adrenaline. All action, no thought.

So when Vic gasped, “I-I’m gonna — gonna come, Patrick,” Patrick didn’t pull off his cock, didn’t stop pumping his fingers into him, didn’t say a word or change a thing.

He just kept going, and Vic came in his mouth, and he kept bobbing his head over his cock, so grateful for the cum he was about to swallow that if he were the type of guy to cry, he’d be in tears.

Fucking Bambi. Little sweetheart, coming in his mouth, arching his back up off the couch and nearly crying ‘cause he finally let another boy make him feel good.

Patrick was starting to see red. He pushed it away, blinked hard and fast, knowing Vic wasn’t looking down at him.

He didn’t want this to be ruined.

He knew it wasn’t real, but he was magic. He could make things as real as they could get, and he was doing it.

He was doing it.

He swallowed Vic’s cum. But he didn’t stop sucking his cock, until —

“Patrick — Patrick, _stop_. Ow.”

Sticking his tongue out, he slowly pulled off of Vic’s cock. He stilled his fingers in Vic’s ass, he looked up at Vic’s face, at his chest, rising and falling so fast it looked like he was hyperventilating. At his face. So covered in sweat, it covered his cheeks like tears.

No. Those _were_ tears.

“Are you… _crying_, Vicky?”

Patrick slowly, centimeter by centimeter, pulled his fingers out of Vic’s asshole.

“No. Shut up.”

“No. Are you. _Crying_?”

“Maybe. Shut your trap for _once_, Patrick.”

Patrick got a tissue from the box on the coffee table next to him and wet it down from his glass of water and wiped his fingers off.

Then he draped himself over Vic. Chest to chest, his face in the crook of Vic’s neck.

“I just — feel real good, that’s all,” Vic whispered.

“Yeah. You don’t gotta cry about it, though.”

“Fuck you.”

Patrick hummed in response.

He pushed himself up so he could look at Vic, so he could take in the tears on his face and wipe them away.

It’s not that he didn’t like them. He loved them.

But he knew that when you made another person cry, he knew, you were supposed to take care of that person and their tears.

It wasn’t real.

No, it was as real as real got for Patrick.

The phone started to ring upstairs.

Patrick and Vic sighed in tandem.

“I’ll get it,” Patrick said.

This was because he was the one who was dressed.

“You better,” Vic said. “It’s your house.”

Patrick shrugged as he got off him.

He went upstairs, to the kitchen, where the phone continued to ring like there was nothing else it could be doing. Like, say, shutting the fuck up.

Patrick picked it up, said nothing, and hung it back up again.

He waited half a minute before going back down to the basement.

Vic had his clothes on, sitting precariously on the edge of his side of the couch, lighting up the rest of the joint they had abandoned.

He took a drag, then another, and held it out to Patrick.

Patrick took a drag, and thought.

Vic’s tight ass around his fingers. His cum in his mouth. His tight throat around Patrick’s cock.

Fire, fire, fire.

Patrick sighed the smoke out.

“Thank you,” Vic said.

“Mm.”

“Seriously, thanks. I, uh. Needed that.”

“No problem, Vicky.”

He passed the joint back to Vic. Took a look at him through the corner of his eye, how delicately he held the joint and blew the smoke back out.

He wanted more. Right now.

But he was willing to wait.

**Author's Note:**

> catch me elsewhere at god--baby.tumblr.com


End file.
